


It's Been a While

by marksmanfem



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alien Planet, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brain Surgery, Brainwashing, Changing the Timeline, Character Death, Companions, Eleventh Doctor Era, Eleventh Doctor being cute, Episode: s06e06 The Almost People, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mercenaries, Military, Multiple Doctors (Doctor Who), Paradox, Perception filters, Post Regeneration, Regeneration, Rose and River getting along, Rose saves the Doctor, Sad Doctor (Doctor Who), Sonic Screwdriver, Surprises, TARDIS Rooms, Temporal Paradox, The Silence, Traveling, Vortex Manipulator, Zombies, brain implants, church of the papal mainframe, cute aliens, doppleganger, ganger, hello sweetie, paradox machine, post pond, rose saves everyone, rose saves river
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-05-04 01:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marksmanfem/pseuds/marksmanfem
Summary: Rose returns from the parallel world to warn the Doctor of the cracks in all of time and space. Unfortunately, she arrives earlier than she intends and far later than the Doctor realizes. An adventure with Rose and the Doctor, with a few surprises, some new/old friends, and an unexpected enemy or two. Set between "The Angels Take Manhattan" and "The Bells of Saint John." AU from there.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place between "The Angels Take Manhattan" and "The Bells of Saint John." AU from there.

After all the work, all the heartache, and a lifetime’s worth of happiness, Rose Tyler’s life takes yet another path.

 

“Are they safe?” the Doctor asks. His withered hand clasps hers with so much less strength than she remembers. It contrasts sharply against her own smooth, unlined skin, but then, it has for years now.

 

“Are they safe?” he whispers again. His heart—his single human heart—stutters but doesn’t fail. Not yet.

 

“Rose?”

 

She shakes her head, jerking herself back from her drifting thoughts. He’s only human, but she learned long ago that despite all the differences, despite the frail human body, this is still most definitely _her_ Doctor, and he needs her now.

 

Because after so many long years together, a whole life full of new adventures, he is finally dying. And she is not.

 

“Who, Doctor? Who d’you mean this time?” There are so many people they’ve met, people they’ve saved, people they’ve shared adventures with, loved even. So many people to watch out for and worry about.

 

“Martha…Mickey the Idiot…Captain Jack…Sarah Jane? Donna?”

 

His old companions, as he’d taken to calling them. She wonders for a moment whether he means the versions of their friends from their original universe or the people they’ve met and grown to know over the decades in what Rose still thinks of as her temporary residence.

 

Of course, home is where the Doctor is, so…

 

“Martha retired several years ago from medical practice. You remember Sarah Jane passed away a while back, but her son is still doing well. Donna’s granddaughter graduated from college last month. Mickey and Jack…”

 

She trails off, not sure what to say. Through their years together, Rose and the Doctor managed to locate this universe’s versions of most of their old friends, but they were never able to find any Captain Jack Harkness or similar. As for Mickey, well…they both remembered what happened to the Mickey from this universe.

 

“Other universe, I remember.” The Doctor is quiet now, and Rose wonders just how much time he’s got left. They’re in the bedroom they’ve shared for the last twenty years, one of half a dozen they’ve shared in their life together in this dimension. Even after half a century with her, the Doctor still doesn’t like hospitals and absolutely refuses to die in one, even if it does have a terrific shop.

 

“I miss all your make-up sometimes…the way it would run down your cheeks when you cried…the way your eyes looked so huge sometimes.”

 

She smiles at the memory; she stopped wearing the layers of cosmetics decades ago. There just didn’t seem much point to all the fuss anymore, and at her age it seemed silly to keep caking it on.

 

“I could go put it on for ya, if y’like.”

 

“No, no. I’m not complaining; you’ll always be the loveliest thing in the universe to me, painted or not. Don’t you think it’s funny, though?”

 

“What is, Doctor?”

 

“Us. You. Me. _Him_. How all this turned out in the end.” She knows which him without asking. Ever since they realized what was happening with Rose, her Doctor began referring to the original version as “ _Him_ ,” not bothering to hide the bitterness. He seemed furious, usually refused to acknowledge the other Doctor at all, most of the time.

 

Rose knew, though, that he was just as furious with himself for not realizing sooner what would happen. After all, they were the same Doctor at that point. They both should have known, really.

 

“I’m so sorry, Rose. I promised you. I promised you this life together.”

 

She smiles through her tears; she’s never held them back in front of him before; no point in starting now.

 

“If you think about it, Doctor, it’s me who’s broken the promise, really, not you.”

 

“Doesn’t matter, you didn’t make the promise. I did. Wasn’t yours to keep.”

 

She sighs, wiping her cheeks. No use arguing with him when he’s like this.

 

“I need you to promise me, Rose.”

 

“Of course, Doctor.”

 

“We’ve done a lot of dangerous things, you and me. We’ve done some great things, some stupid things, and some stupidly great things, but I have to ask you to do the stupidest thing of all now.”

 

She doesn’t hesitate. “Anything.”

 

His next words are strained, and he struggles to get them out. She grips his hand tighter.

 

“The cracks…you’ve got to find a way to get back to… _Him_. To the other Doctor. If he doesn’t know, you’ve got to warn him. If he does, you can help him…somehow. You always do.” He finishes with a wheeze that degrades into a coughing fit.

 

Rose forces herself not to think as she helps him take a sip of water. They’re both quiet for a long time.

 

“I promise.”

 

“Rose.”

 

“Yes, Doctor?”

 

“My Rose Tyler. You…have our book to help you so you don’t find him…me…too early?”

 

“Of course, Doctor.”

 

“I never said it often enough.”

 

She doesn’t have to ask what he means.

 

“I said it enough for the both of us…and you told me every day in different ways.”

 

“Not…enough.”

 

She smiles and kisses his hand. “You said it that day on the beach. That’s always been enough for me.”

 

The Doctor finally smiles. “Best decision I ever made, and one of the very few I never regretted.” He turns serious again almost instantly.

 

“I would have married you if you’d let me.”

 

“Neither of us needed a piece of paper saying what we already knew.”

 

“Not the point, Rose.”

 

“I love you, too, Doctor.”

 

He raises a weak, trembling hand, and she presses her cheek into its wrinkled, scarred palm.

 

“Beautiful as the day I met you.”

 

“So are you.”

 

“Not the same,” he mutters, his eyes closing. His breathing eases, evens out, and deepens. Soon, he is snoring lightly. She lowers his hand from her face but doesn’t release it.

 

He has so many regrets, even as a human. He regrets all the lives he’s not able to save. He regrets not being able to successfully grow a new TARDIS. He regrets never being able to give her children, but she insists she never wanted kids anyway. She is mostly telling the truth.

 

Two hours later, his heart stops. He has asked her to not have him revived if this happens. She gently lays his hand down by his side. She glances numbly around the room at the various articles of his day-to-day life that have collected: a pair of thick reading spectacles laying on the bedside table, these ones for necessity rather than looks; an uneaten banana; several ties strewn about on the dresser top; dirty trainers laid neatly alongside the new ones she bought him last week.

 

It’s an ordinary room for an extraordinary man.

 

He doesn’t die with the trumpets and fanfare he deserves, with the universe singing praises and paying homage to its continual savior. He doesn’t receive a grand ceremony or scores of honors or posthumous awards for everything he’s done to help…well, everyone.

 

But he doesn’t die alone, and for that Rose can only be glad. She stands, wipes her face, and makes the necessary phone calls. There aren’t many. Her mum and Pete are long gone. Tony has grandchildren, but she doesn’t see them much. Too many awkward questions.

 

Their affairs have been in order for quite some time; they knew this day was coming.

 

A week later, Rose finishes packing her last bags. She stays long enough for the cremation and funeral, long enough to say good-bye to the few of her friends she has left who will show up. It’s too awkward or painful for most of them, as they didn’t know the Doctor the way their parallel selves did. And everyone’s just a bit uncomfortable around Rose. She doesn’t mind; she understands.

 

She says good-bye to the best man she’s ever known. Then she sets off to find him again.


	2. 2

In the end, passing through to the other universe is as simple as walking through a door. Of course, it’s a stupid risk. Rose could end up anywhere, anytime, anyplace; but she doesn’t have anything left to lose at this point unless she can find what she’s looking for. 

 

Or, rather,  _ who _ she’s looking for.

After decades of working with Torchwood, she has a gadget or two that helps narrow down her arrival, and she manages to land in the mid 1970s, narrowly avoiding one of the younger Doctor’s adventures with UNIT. It takes her about a day to get her bearings, but she doesn’t waste any time. She is Rose Tyler, and if there’s one thing she knows how to do, it’s talk to people.

 

It’s a devilishly tricky business, but she slowly works her way into this universe’s UNIT, although she’s careful to avoid any direct contact with Torchwood at all costs. It takes all her wits to stay out of the way of any of the Doctor’s previous incarnations, or any of her own personal acquaintances, for that matter, but she has her book to guide her, and so she manages to avoid the worst slip-ups.

Of course, the temptation to visit London during 2007 and lend a hand at Canary Wharf is so overwhelming that she’s literally forced to sedate herself. There’s no way she’d gamble away all the years she had with her doctor for flimsy chance at What Could Have Been.

And for forty years Rose works silently behind the curtains with various organizations, comparing notes and data, checking her book, and staying out of sight from those with whom she works. Much better to avoid unnecessary questions about her lack of aging and such. She watches for signs of the cracks, ferreting out information from the unlikeliest of sources, repairing what little damage she can manage on her own.

Most importantly, though, she watches for the Doctor, waiting for the right time to contact him, and finally, through various channels and resources, she determines the correct time. With the use of certain gadgets and the manipulation of a certain someone’s psychic paper, she manages to send the Doctor a message about when and where to meet her.

In the summer of 2016, she makes her way to a tiny town in the countryside whose name is only ever remembered by the locals, and there she waits at the town’s small, solitary pub. She isn’t even sure what she’s going to say to him at this point, as the whole purpose of her crossing universes was to warn him about the cracks in time and space.

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, he solved that problem himself several years back. All the machines and gadgets in the world couldn’t help her get to him in time to be useful. He even has a new companion or two, or so she’s heard. And while she’s so happy that he hasn’t had to spend his time alone, she feels an unpleasant twinge somewhere deep in her chest.

_ I came all this way, and he doesn’t even need me _ , she thinks sadly as she stares into her pint.

The book she and her Doctor compiled together sits huge and silent in front of her on the table; she’s consulted it four times in the last half hour alone just to make sure she isn’t crossing anything important or interfering with something that had already happened before the Doctor split into two people.

She has very little idea what’s happened with him since they last parted; she made a very determined effort to only find out what was absolutely necessary for the mission so she wouldn’t be tempted to find him before the time was right. What if…

Rose shakes her head. She’s no longer the nervous, self-conscious adolescent who has to hide behind a shield of bravado and cosmetics. She’s lived far longer than that young girl, and she has the confidence and experience to prove it.

So why is it that, even though she’s sitting down, her knees feel suddenly weak?

“ _ What?! _ ”

She turns, smiling. “It’s been a while, Doctor.”

“It can’t be…no. No, that’s impossible. I’d have known. Except that you…” He trails off into confused silence, staring hard at Rose. Her smile seems to reassure him a little, but he still seems a bit…twitchy.

“Wearing a bow tie now? Really?”

“What? Bowties are cool.” He unconsciously straightens his, almost like a reflex, as he slides into the booth seat across from Rose.

“You’re wearing so much less make-up.” Okay, so he hasn’t gained much tact in this new regeneration. “And you haven’t aged a day.”

“You have no idea,” she replies wryly. She  _ has _ waited over forty years for this meeting, after all. “You’ve gotten younger.”

Is he blushing? If the situation weren’t already so ridiculous, she would probably have to tease him about his resemblance to a cross between a stuffy university professor and an awkward adolescent.

“How did you get here?” The same intense stare on a different face is very disconcerting. “You could damage the entire universe by coming through to this world, although if you are the Rose Tyler I remember then something dreadful must be happening, as you wouldn’t do something to put existence in peril simply on a whim. So, like I said, how’d you get here?”

“It’s really more of a question of  _ when _ , you see. I’ve been waiting a few years for you, Doctor.”

“A few years? But you…” He pauses, then his eyes widen as a realization hits him. He speaks slowly, as if the words are painful for him and he doesn’t really want to hear the answer to his question.

“Rose, how long has it been since I last saw you?”

“Do you want it in months, years, or decades?”

His eyes are screwed shut, his jaw tight and angry. She’s not sure where the anger is directed.

“Please. Don’t play games with me. This is important, and I need to know.”

She sees something in his face, definitely not aimed at her, but something that she knows she would never want to cross. She saw it on her own Doctor several times in both regenerations, and she’s glad that, as terrifying as it potentially is, some things don’t change.

“It’s been one hundred and four years since you left us on the beach in the other universe.”

He lets out a long, pained breath, and his head drops wearily into his hands. This is still  _ her _ Doctor somehow, but she can tell he’s been through a lot since the last time she saw him.

She understands how he’s feeling at her revelation. He’s probably alternating between blaming himself though he has no idea what’s going on and disbelief that it’s really been so long for her. She went through similar reactions with her own Doctor when he realized she was…changed. She reaches out a hand, unsure of her place with this new Doctor, this ancient young man.

In response to her unasked question, he reaches his own hand out, meeting her halfway. Their fingers automatically entwine, as if those appendages were made to fit together despite the three different shapes and sizes of one half of the pair. She smiles, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.

“What?” he asks, sensing her amusement without looking up.

“It’s been over a century since I’ve seen you, and this still feels right. You’re  _ literally _ a different person, and you still feel right. I guess it’s just good to know that even when the whole universe changes, some things don’t. My hand was made for yours no matter what your face looks like.”

He looks up then, and she sees the ghost of a smile. But the look is fleeting; his eyes are so sad, and she wonders if she imagined the brief happiness on his face.

“Over a century for you and over three for me…How time does slip by.”

She clasps his hand tighter, and he returns her grip as if he’s finally acknowledging the lifeline it’s always been.

“Doctor.” She’s whispering now, she doesn’t know why. She searches his face, his worn and infinitely sad face, then stands and slides onto the seat beside him. Wordlessly she opens her arms to him.

To her surprise, he eyes her suspiciously. “How do I even know it’s really you? I’ve seen some fairly impressive copying methods in the last few years. You could be plastic, for all I know.”

“So scan me with your sonic, if y’like.” He does, and while she feels a tiny twinge of hurt, she has also grown up a bit in the last century, and she appreciates his caution.

He finally closes the screwdriver and replaces it inside his jacket. His mood switches from somber to agitated in the blink of an eye.

“It  _ is _ you. But it  _ can’t _ be you. But it is. I don’t know how or why, but you’re really here. How can you be here? It’s impossible! No, hardly possible! But how did you even get back? Hang on!”

Her mouth is open in shock at this barrage of questions and statements, and she tries to answer something— _ anything _ — from his rapid onslaught. At his last statement, though, she closes her mouth, eyes wide and eyebrows raised questioningly as she waits for him to continue.

After a long minute of silently scrutinizing her face, he speaks.

“I’ve decided that since you are really here, though we both know you can’t be here, and since the universe doesn’t seem to be currently imploding or ripping apart from your arrival, not that we’d be able to tell just now…Anyway, sorry! All I care about for the next ninety-two seconds is that for however long I can manage, I have you back, Rose Tyler.”

He grabs her then, crushing her into their tightest hug yet. True to his word, for the next minute and a half, absolutely nothing else in the world matters more than this simple contact. As simple as anything with the Doctor ever is, of course.

“I knew you were still in there,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one needed some major revamping, but I’m hoping it came out better than I think it did. Some questions got answered here, but not all. I’ll answer some more questions in the next bit. Let me know if you see some issues or inconsistencies. Please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks!


End file.
